Cupcake Kid~On pause!)

Leonie loves harry, he loves her back. But when Harry leaves, what happens to Leonie? Does he care?

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2. Chapter Two

Leonie's P.O.V:

I tap my foot impatiently on the ground, staring into my father's grey eyes. He looks really worried and concerned for me, he doesn't honestly think I need to go back on pills again? I was on them after he left me. I literally had a mental breakdown,

Flashback of 2010* 

I sat on the couch in my living-room slugishly. I hadn't heard from my boyfriend yet and I was kinda worried, usually he texted me before school to make sure I was going or even just on weekends. They were always heart-warming texts to make my stomach dance. Things such as,

Morning beautiful! xxx :) missing you <3

Pleasee Please Pleaseeee tell me you're going to school!!! I can't go today without you xxx ;)

I laugh at the text he sent me just two weeks ago but nothing since, I flick on the TV and pick my cup of coffee of the table. X Factor? What?! Then I decide to check the clock and realise that the housei s quiet because my Dad has gone to work. I slept the whole day! Its three in the afternoon, I guess thats what happens when you're in love and you're missing your other half for weeks. Its auditions and I laugh and smile at some, but then one just splits my heart.

                                                                             He walks out wearing a white tee, skinny jeans, a grey cardigan, a scarf thing and boots. I gape at the screen, tears running down my face, full blast. I shake my head from side to side,

No ,NO! Its not him!

His curly hair fresh as ever, I can't stop shaking my head.

How are you?

Simon Cowell asks him,

Hello!

His voice gives me all the clarification I need, I patiently wait for him to start singing. I cry and rock myself back and forth like a little child, why didn't he tell me?! I shake and even though I know this has been recorded awhile ago, I wait until his audition is well and truly over before dialling his number for the twentyfifth time this week. I have been counting, about fifteen of those times I left a voicemail most of the time just saying that I love him and come home from wherever you are please. Most of them consisted of me asking him where he was and that I love him so much. He let it go to voicemail everytime, I know his phone isn't off because he lets it ring for awhile before finding out its me and then he hangs up again. I leave a voicemail once again,

H-harry? I-I-I just saww it, why didn't you tell me where you went?! You know I love you right? If you lvoe me, then you'll come home and explain, if not well then I know who is the one who partakes in this relationship.

I hung up and started screaming, I threw my phone at the wall and sat there crying. Eventually I stumbled over to my phone and picked it up, I am so emotionally wrecked that I can't even walk. I broke down in tears right in the spot and ended up dragging my sorry, tearful ass back over to the couch by crawling. I dialled my Dad's number,

Hi, sweetie can this wait?

N-n-nooo Dad! Its Harry!

I began sobbing so hard and getting really tearful, I couldn't see for any amount of seconds because once I blinked the tears away, a new load came fresh. My dad quickly hung up and ten minutes later he burst through the door, rushing over and holding me in his arms. I explained everything to him and started sobbign really hard. I started to have a panic attack, how could he leave me like this? An emotional wreck! My mum only died a few years ago and he knows how i still haven't got over it yet, he didn't even say goodbye! I had another panic attack and could barely breath.

End of flashback*

I remember the painful months after it all, taking about five different coloured pills everyday, a few times the doctors considered sending to a mental hospital because of my continuous melt downs and panic attacks. I had also tried to kill myself very regularily and my dad was getting worried. But after two years of my Dad and I helping each other, we both got back on our feet and decided that it would be handy to save up from the money my Dad was giving me from working with him. He always pats me on the back and announces how proud he is of me. I still have the same phone and number but I deleted all the messages I sent him. He didn't realise that of the two years he had left, he got more famous and better and I got more suidcidal and broken. I got through it though as I'm standing here today living and killing myself has not once crossed my mind.

                                                               My dad gulped as a car quickly braked outside which made a high pitched squeeking noise. Five boys and two bulky men jumped out and ran in the two glass doors, locking them as a stampeed of girls came running up to our building followed by the paps. I eyed the boys, oh my god! I breathed.

 

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